I Won't Forget
by whereistheark
Summary: There is a horrible accident and Wendy is the victim. Kyle can't cheer up his best friend Stan, and watches him spiral downward. It's a dark decent into self-blame. Kyle is at a loss. Stan seeks help in the wrong places. Stan/Kyle.
1. Chapter 1

**Hey guys, back with a new South Park fanfiction, I hope you all like the start of this one, it's an idea I've had for a while now. if you liked, please review, it helps me continue the story. Thanks guys!**

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ch 1

Stan just got the call. It was pouring rain, the tin roof taking a beating. The sky was bleak and gray clouds scattered above. This had to be bad news.

"I'm sorry, Stanley. There was nothing we could do. Her spine was severed, but her parents made it out alive. It would be nice if you visited them at the hospital tonight."

The phone slowly slipped from Stan's hand and off onto the carpeted floor of the living room. He could just barely hear the doctors voice on the other end of the call, asking if anyone was still on the other line.

_What?_

"Stanley, what's wrong?" Sharron, Stan's mother asked as she walked down the stairs, yawning. "It's three in the morning. Who was on the phone?"

Stan didn't answer.

"Stanley?"

"She's gone."

"What?"

"Wendy."

"Gone where, Stanley?"

"Just, gone."

Stan's mother frowned, a slight puzzled look on her face. "Stanley, tell me what's going on."

* * *

There was a knock at the front door of the Broflovski residence. Kyle sat up in bed, the sheets shuffling around him in the dark. He rubbed his eyes. "Hmmhm…" Kyle groggily hopped out of bed, shuffling to the door of his room, and made his way down the stairs. His parents must have not heard the constant knocks on the door. The knocks were spaced out and sounded urgent. Kyle opened the door.

Stan stood in the threshold, soaked with rain, his hair showing in wet tufts from under his hat. He had a look of distraught on his face, mixed with panic. "Kyle…"

"St-Stan?"

"She's gone."

Kyle swallowed. "Who, Stan?"

"Wendy." Stan drew out the name, a lump in his throat. "C-come with me to the hospital."

* * *

The two had taken a taxi to Hells Pass Hospital without Stan and Kyle's parent's knowledge. They arrived in the waiting room.

The hospital smelled sterile, with white walls upon white walls and hallways upon hallways. A distraught woman sat next to Kyle, her hands trembling while holding a blood soaked towel around her cut off finger. Kyle felt squeamish looking at her so he turned away.

"K-Kyle. I need to talk to you alone…. Please." Stan's voice was shaky as he looked over at his friend. Kyle beckoned his friend over to a secluded area in the waiting room around the corner. Stan's body shook, he looked as if he were about to be sick.

"I-I didn't even get to tell her…" Stan started, and Kyle frowned. "God, I'm going to be sick…" Stan covered his mouth and shut his eyes tightly. Kyle patted his back.

"T-tell her what, Stan?"

"That we…"

Kyle was silent.

"That we are in a relationship. Behind her back…" Stan finished, running to the nearest trashcan and throwing up in it. Kyle rushed to his friend's aid, rubbing his back rhythmically. "This is karma for me… god, I'm such a terrible person…"

"Stan…"

The two had been in a relationship for over three months now after Kyle confessed that he had deeper feelings for Stan, and Kyle was surprised when Stan had admitted having the same feelings as well. The two started dating in secret, no one in the entire elementary school knew about it, not even Kenny and Cartman. It had to be kept a secret. But now it felt to Stan that it would all be out in the open now since Wendy was gone. Everyone would know now. Stan felt sick.

"Stan, it's not your fault." Kyle whispered.

"Yes it is, Kyle."

"I…I initiated the relationship."

"But I agreed to it." Stan's body trembled, his hands firmly grasping the rim of the trashcan. Curious eyes stared. Stan tried his best to ignore them. "I needed to choose one… but instead I got greedy and wanted both of you… and now one of you is gone…" Stan wanted to cry. He wouldn't show any more weakness in front of Kyle, in front of the waiting patients of the hospital. Stan steadied himself as Kyle retrieved a glass of water for his friend. Stan gulped it down, nodding his thanks to Kyle. Stan took a few short, shaky breaths as he stood, trying to recuperate.

"E-everything is going to be fine, Stan." Kyle tried to reassure, but even he wasn't so sure.

"Stanley, I knew you'd be here! Get over here, now!" Stan's mother's voice resounded down the hall and Stan's heart lurched. "You are in big trouble! You had me very worried, young man! Leaving without saying a word to me and your father…"

_Fuck. _

"Wait, thank you for coming, Stan." It was Wendy's mother. She stood behind him, and Stan spun around to look at both his mother and Wendy's. Wendy's father stood further away. Wendy's mother looked like she had been crying, her eyes red and puffy. Stan noticed she had minor cuts and bruises on her forehead and arms. So did Wendy's father. Stan didn't understand how they made it out alive and Wendy didn't. "Thank you… thank you…"

* * *

After visiting with Wendy's parents, it was already five in the morning and Stan was exhausted. He just wanted to plop down on the bed and sleep for an eternity. It felt like all just a big dream for Stan. And he wished it was. Kyle squeezed Stan's hand from under the table; the parents and children had stopped at the Denny's down the road. Stan didn't want to eat. No one did. Stan took a sip of his coffee. Kyle mirrored him.

After a long drawn out chat between the parents, Stan and Kyle could finally go home. But one child would not be making it to her home tonight. Stan felt a lump in his throat. The funeral would be held this Friday. Two days from now.


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey guys, back with another chapter. Hope you like the story so far. Please leave a review if you liked, it helps me continue the story. Thanks for the reviews so far, you guys are awesome.**

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Ch 2

The coffin was being lowered into the ground. Stan stood watching, dressed in a black suit and tie, standing next to Kyle and his mother and father. It was a gloomy day, gray overcast, clouds scattered across the bleak sky.

"Stan…" Kyle whispered to his friend next to him. "D-did you ever find out what happened to her? I-I mean… was it an accident?"

Stan was silent for a moment before he spoke. "No one will tell me." Kyle looked down. He wished he never asked. Stan's voice was laced with hurt. Kyle wanted to know. But he was sure that Stan wanted to know as well. What Stan wouldn't tell is how badly he wanted to know what happened. It was probably a cold case and no one would ever know.

When the service was over, everyone went to the after lunch. They made their way to the basement of the church, where everything was set up. The smell of food made Stan feel sick.

"I don't want to eat." Stan tried to explain to his mother.

"Stanley, you need to eat. You didn't eat dinner last night or breakfast this morning." Sharon frowned.

"I don't feel well." Stan's voice was weak. In truth, he wanted to eat. He just knew he couldn't keep it down. He felt ill just thinking about it.

Kyle walked up to Stan with food on his plate. "Come on, Stan. It looks good. Try at least something."

Stan made his way to a table and sat down next to his father. He rested his hand on his chin and sighed, eyes half open. Kyle frowned and turned to Stan's mother. "I'm worried about him, Mrs. Marsh." Kyle said.

* * *

The service was over. On the way back to Stan's house, they passed the Testaburger residence. Stan noticed police tape around the fence, and police were investigating. Wendy's parents stood chatting with the officer, and Stan saw Wendy's father point to a broken window, which was now covered with tarp. Stan decided that when he got back to the house, he would go and visit Wendy's parents.

* * *

Stan headed over to Wendy's house. He was confronted by a police officer who put his hand up. "Sorry young man, you can't go past this line."

"I knew her. Please, let me talk to her parents." Stan looked up with pleading eyes.

"…Oh, alright. Then let us get back to our business."

Stan nodded. He walked up to Mrs. Testaburger and her husband. "H-hello."

"Hello, Stan." Wendy's mother faked a smile; her eyes full of pain.

"Can you, umm…" Stan started; kicking a small pebble and watching it bounce across the driveway. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"Can you tell me… what happened to her? Wendy?" Stan began carefully, and Stan thought he saw tears in Mrs. Testaburger's eyes.

"I can tell you what I know."

* * *

Wendy made her way back to her house after school. The rain was slowing to a slow sprinkle, the clouds strewn across the dreary gray sky. She had spoken with Stan before she left; he was acting odd for the past few months, she noticed. He was very worrisome, always asking Wendy if she really liked him and if she was happy with him. The answer was always yes, of course. Wendy noticed Stan was spending more and more time with Kyle than with her, and this made her feel slightly lonely.

Wendy made her way to her room, plopping down on her desk chair and pulling out her homework. She scribbled answers fluently on the page, moving to the next page. Wendy jumped when she heard a crash from downstairs, and voices. Her parents weren't home yet. It was nine o'clock PM now, she had occupied herself with watching chick flicks before her parents would get home. Now it was time for homework.

Wendy swallowed, tiptoeing to her door and slowly opening it with a creak. She saw silhouettes in the living room, the house was dark and the only light was coming from a small desk lamp in Wendy's room.

_Shit! What do I do?_

One of the shadows seemed to have a knife. Wendy's breathing became unsteady as one of the two shadows moved towards her.

"You told me there was no one here, you fucking dumbass!" one of the intruders shouted at the other. Wendy could make out the two men now, both with black clothing and ski masks on. No other features could be identified. One of the men spotted Wendy, and upon seeing her, lunged at her, knocking her down. The breath was knocked out of her lungs instantaneously, and she gasped for breath.

"H-help!" Wendy tried to yell, but to no avail.

"Kill her! We can't have any witnesses!" the other man shouted, throwing a switchblade at his comrade. He caught it and picked the gasping Wendy up, slamming her hard against a wall. It was immediate, there was a deafening _crack _and Wendy fell to the floor, unmoving.

"Shit, let's get out of here!" the second intruder yelled, motioning to his buddy and the two hopped out of the window. They were met with Wendy's parents exiting their car.

"Hey!" yelled Wendy's father as one of the intruders lunged at him, slicing his cheek with the switchblade. The other dove at Wendy's mother, cutting her arm twice. As the two intruders ran away from the scene, Wendy's father called the police.

* * *

"And that's what happened. I'm not sure how Wendy was… k-killed…" tears rimmed Wendy's mother's eyes. "B-but the officer told us she got a concussion and her spine was severed. I think one of those intruders threw her against a wall."

"T-thanks for telling me…" Stan frowned. "I know it was hard for you. I-I'm really going to miss her."

"Us too. She did nothing wrong… we need justice… and I wish I could remember what they looked like, but I was knocked on the ground and hit my head… My husband didn't get a good look at them either… it was too dark."

"I'm sure we will find out what really happened soon, Mrs. Testaburger." Stan promised himself he would find justice for his former friend.


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey guys. Hope you like the story so far. Please review if you liked, it helps me continue the story. You guys are awesome!**

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Ch 3

It was a week past the funeral. Stan was feeling completely miserable. The elementary students were on Spring Break for the week. It was only day one. Stan sighed heavily. Kyle was trying to cheer his friend up by taking him to see a movie. It was halfway over.

"Stan, do you just want to leave? You seem really out of it…" Kyle broke into Stan's dark thoughts.

"Huh?"

"I asked if you want to leave."

"Oh… sure."

The two walked out of the movie theater and out into the gloomy morning. It was hard enough to get Stan out of bed, let alone out of the house. Kyle sighed inwardly. He missed how Stan was before the accident. He felt selfish thinking about it. He pushed the thought away. Frowning, Kyle took his friend's hand. "You know you can talk to me. I-I'm here for you, dude." Kyle reassured.

"I don't want to talk."

"Whenever you are ready, I mean."

* * *

Stan jolted awake, drenched in sweat. It was a horrible nightmare. He breathed heavily, trying to steady his heart rate.

_It was just a dream. Just a dream. _Stan sighed, relief washing over him. He thought back to the nightmare; he had seen Wendy letting out a bloodcurdling scream for help as she was thrown against a wall, a deafening _crack _was heard and she hit the ground with a thud. Stan couldn't get the image out of his head. He needed to talk to someone, to forget all about it.

* * *

Kyle's phone buzzed on his bedside table. He groaned as the screen illuminated the room with a bright light. He reached over, grabbing the phone clumsily and pressed the answer button.

"Hello?" Kyle answered groggily.

"Kyle?"

"Stan? What's wrong?"

"N-nothing."

"Stan…" Kyle sat up in his bed, the sheets shuffling around him. "I know something's wrong. You wouldn't be calling me if you were alright. You can tell me."

There was silence on Stan's end before he spoke. "I-I had a nightmare." Kyle could hear the embarrassment in Stan's voice.

"About what?"

"W-Wendy." Kyle heard Stan sigh over the phone.

"Oh… Stan…" Kyle's heart lurched. His voice was soft. "I'm here if you want to talk."

Stan explained what had happened in the nightmare. With every word, Kyle could hear the hurt in his voice. "And… that's how it ended. I just want to forget all about it. It's like I was at the scene of the crime. It was like I was there, Kyle." Stan's voice trembled.

"Stan… it's alright. Do you need me to come over?"

"N-no… it's fine. I'll be ok. It's too late." There was a pause, and Kyle assumed that Stan was checking the time. "It's three in the morning. I'll see you tomorrow." And with that Stan hung up.

* * *

Stan slept in until one o'clock in the afternoon. His mother had tried to wake him up several times; even Kyle had called a few times to see if he was available. Stan sat up in bed, rubbing his eyes. "God, what time is it…" Stan checked his phone; it was a quarter past one. "Damn…" Stan slipped out of bed. He didn't get much sleep last night because he was up all night thinking about the nightmare. He had just gone to sleep two hours prior. Stan groggily made his way downstairs, shuffling through the texts Kyle had sent him. There were at least ten texts. "Jeez…" Stan opened a text and replied to it. Moments later, a _ding _was heard and Stan opened the new text.

"_**Jesus, dude. I was worried sick about you!" **_Kyle wrote in the text.

"_Sorry. Didn't get much sleep last night." _Stan replied.

"_**It's fine. Meet me at my house after you get ready."**_

"_Alright."_

* * *

Stan arrived at Kyle's house. Kyle opened the door, standing in the threshold. "Y-you ok, Stan?"

Stan didn't realize how sloppily he had gotten ready; his hair was a mess under his hat, a few tufts sticking out from underneath, jacket unbuttoned, a white t-shirt on. "I'm fine."

"C-come in, dude." Kyle motioned Stan inside and closed the door, locking it. "My parents aren't home, so we have the house to ourselves at the moment."

"Oh… cool."

"Tell me what's up." Kyle plopped onto the couch and motioned Stan over, patting the spot next to him. Stan sat down next to his friend and shrugged.

"I just feel..."

Kyle nodded.

"…Really terrible." Stan finished.

"I can understand that… maybe not in the same way you do, but I understand why you are feeling this way." Kyle replied soothingly.

"I don't want to get up in the morning… I feel like shit, I can't sleep. I don't want to eat; I barely ate breakfast before I came here." Stan continued.

"We've got to get you feeling better, Stan." Kyle frowned. "You need to stop blaming yourself for this." Kyle said carefully. Stan's face contorted into a glare.

"How can I _not _blame myself for this, Kyle? I was having a relationship with you. Behind Wendy's back. She doesn't… didn't know. And now I'm blaming myself for this. Of course I blame myself! You don't know how it's like!"

"N-no I don't, but-"

"It's eating me alive, Kyle." Stan cut him off.

"I'm sorry…" was all Kyle could reply. "I-I'll just… lay off for a while."

"No… that's not what I meant." Stan turned to his friend. "I just think the wound is still fresh for me right now and it's going to take a while for me to… heal."

"I understand."

Silence.

"Ky?"

"Yes, Stan?"

"I'm sorry. I don't want you to think I'm yelling at _you_. I'm just… I feel terrible, but that's not an excuse to take it out on you."

"It's alright, Stan. I understand."

Stan wrapped his arms around his friend. "It just still feels wrong to me… that… we are still in a relationship even though Wendy is…" Stan felt a lump in his throat. "Gone." Stan let go of his friend, a look of guilt on his face. "I feel like I'm not even allowed to talk to you."

"I-I understand, Stan." Kyle repeated. But he really _didn't _understand.

"But it won't be like that," Stan said quickly. "I-I just think… we should lay off on the relationship part for a while. Just for a little. O-once I feel better… maybe then we can start again." Stan couldn't promise how long that would take. Kyle's heart lurched.

"O-Oh. Yeah. That sounds like a good idea." Kyle nodded.


	4. Chapter 4

**Hey guys. Thanks for sticking with me so far. Hope you like this one so far. Please leave a review if you did, it helps me continue the story. Thanks!**

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Ch 4

Stan had never felt this miserable. Not even when his parents split and his cynical phase was in full swing. Now it felt like it was happening all over again. He felt like he hurt Kyle by what he said; when saying he wanted to hold off their relationship for a while. Stan sat at his desk and sighed. It was a boring Tuesday. Day two of spring break.

Stan's phone buzzed from across the room. He slipped off of his chair and grabbed the phone off of his bedside table. He answered it. "Hello?"

"_Hi, Stan." _It was Kyle.

"H-hey, dude." Stan answered, a lump in his throat.

"_Wanna come play basketball with Kenny and Cartman with me?"_

Stan groaned inwardly. "Sure. Let me just get ready."

* * *

Stan arrived at the basketball court, hands in his jacket pockets. The smell of fresh rain lingered in the air. Kyle, Kenny, and Cartman had already started a game of horse. "Haha, that's HORS now, Jewboy. You're almost out."

"Shut up, fatass." Kyle retorted. He turned when he saw Stan. "Hey, Stan!"

Stan waved. "Hey, guys."

"Come play with us, dude." Kenny mumbled, and Stan walked up to the three boys. He didn't feel like playing at all. He just wanted to crawl back into bed and sleep for an eternity.

"Here, it's your turn, Stan." Cartman bounced the ball to Stan, Stan clumsily catching it. He bounced the ball a few times and missed the net. Stan sighed.

"Don't worry, dude. Try again." Kyle encouraged.

"Guys, I really don't feel well. I want to go home." Stan said before Kyle could bounce the ball back to him. Kyle frowned.

"Jeez, Stan, don't be such a Debby Downer." Cartman rolled his eyes. Stan looked down.

"Lay off, Cartman. If he doesn't feel good, he doesn't feel good. We can always play again tomorrow." Kyle snapped. In truth, Kyle was disappointed. He tried so hard to get Stan to feel better, but to no avail. He just had to try harder. Kyle pulled Stan aside. "You alright, Stan?"

"No." Stan answered plainly. Kyle noticed how pale Stan looked; his hair slightly sticking out from under his hat, his jacket unbuttoned. Once he got a closer look, Stan looked horrible. Stan looked as horrible as he felt. He was projecting his feelings for everyone to see.

"Do you need to talk?" Kyle asked.

"No." Stan repeated hesitantly. "I don't want to annoy you with my problems."

"You could never annoy me, Stan."

Stan turned away. Kyle grabbed his shoulder and spun him around to face him. "Talk to me."

"Not here."

* * *

Kyle followed Stan to his house. Stan's parents and sister had gone to the mall. Stan had said he wanted to stay home. Stan's mother had reluctantly agreed. She was worried about Stan's sleeping habits. She believed he was sleeping too much. Kyle followed Stan up to his room. Stan shed his coat and threw it across the room. He plopped down on his bed and rubbed his eyes. Kyle had not seen Stan smile since the accident. He wanted to make it his mission.

"Hey, Stan?"

"Yeah?"

"Uhhh…"

Stan looked up at Kyle with a pitiful look on his face.

"…never mind."

"Seriously, what?"

"Nothing, Stan."

Stan shrugged. "Alright, then."

Kyle sat next to him on the bed. He wanted to grab his hand, but that would most likely make Stan feel uncomfortable. Stan sighed heavily. Kyle wanted to make him laugh. He didn't know how, though. He would probably fail and end up laughing to himself awkwardly. Kyle sighed inwardly.

"Stan, we have to get you feeling better." Kyle turned to his friend.

"I'm fine, Kyle."

"No, you're not, dude."

Stan glared at Kyle. "I said, I'm _fine._" Stan stressed the word, drawing it out.

"You're obviously not." Kyle argued combatively.

"Lay the fuck off, Kyle."

"I'm sorry; I just want to help you feel better."

Stan covered his face in his hands. "Just, stop."

Kyle frowned. He hated to see his friend like this. He was at a loss. There was a long silence.

"Kyle, what do you think happens when you die? Do you believe that we will see the people we loved after it's all over?" Stan asked after a while.

"Stan… I'm not sure." Kyle admitted.

"I miss her, Kyle."

"I know you do, Stan."

"I wish I could find out what it was like after you leave this earth."

Kyle swallowed. He didn't like his friend saying these kinds of things. It worried him. "I'm worried about you, Stan."

"What's there to worry about, Kyle?"

"The things you are saying."

"What?"

"Talking about… death."

"What's so bad about that?"

"I just…" Kyle looked his friend up and down. "Never mind."

* * *

It was the same nightmare. Stan woke up in a cold sweat, just like the night before. And several nights before that. Spring break was over with, and Stan returned to school. He didn't get much sleep at all, and had fallen asleep in Mr. Garrison's class.

"Stan, would you _kindly _not sleep in my class?" Mr. Garrison snapped, slapping a ruler down on the desk, Stan jolting awake.

"S-sorry." Snickers filled the classroom. Stan's face began to heat up in embarrassment. "I didn't get any sleep last night."

"Meet me after class." Mr. Garrison glared.

"Y-yes, sir."

The bell rang and the students dispersed. Stan stayed after, Kyle lingering by the door before leaving, a worried look on his face.

"Stanley, I know the death of Wendy has taken a toll on you, but you need to get over it."

Stan's face screwed into a look of anger. "'Get over it'?"

"Look, there is a ceremony being held next hour for Wendy. After that, go home. Get some rest. Don't sleep in my class again, you got that?"

Stan mumbled something incoherent. Mr. Garrison glared. "What was that?"

"I said, alright."

* * *

The ceremony was long. Stan had no knowledge that he had to speak during the presentation. His heart thudded painfully in his chest as he walked up in front of the entire Elementary school.

"I-I knew Wendy as my girlfriend. She was a very good friend of mine, and I hate to see her go." Stan felt a lump in his throat. "I-I'm sorry, I can't do this. I can't do this." Stan ran out of the gym, slamming the doors behind him. He ran to the nearest bathroom and locked the door, falling to the floor, sobbing. "God damn it…" Stan mumbled. There was a knock at the door.

"Stan?" it sounded like Kyle.

"Go away!" Stan replied between sobs.

Soon a crowd of students surrounded the restroom door. Stan's sobs reverberated from beyond the door.

Kyle leaned into the door. "Stan, let me in, at least?"

Stan swallowed his sobs. "No."

"Please?"

"Go away. Leave me alone!" Stan shouted.

Kyle closed his eyes, sliding down the door and onto the floor. "I won't leave until you come out."

Soon the students left the scene and only Kyle was left. He still leaned into the door. The halls were silent. It was 4:32 PM. School was over. Kyle had stayed in front of the door for five hours waiting for Stan to come out.

"Kyle?"

Kyle opened his eyes. "Hmmm?"

The door made a clicking noise, the door unlatched and opened. "Y-you're still here?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

Stan peeked out; his eyes had dark circles around them. "Why?"

"Because I care, Stan."

* * *

Stan was having dark thoughts. They were overpowering. Guilt formed a lump in his throat. His head was spinning. Stan was lying on the floor of his bedroom, staring at the ceiling. His hat was off, allowing the ceiling fan to blow his hair in his face. There was a knock at the door. "Stanley, your friend Kyle is here to see you."

The door opened and Kyle walked in, shutting the door behind him. "Hey, dude."

Stan replied with a grunt. Kyle frowned. "How are you doing?"

"Alright, I guess." Stan lied. Stan was still sprawled out on the bedroom floor. Kyle leaned down next to him. Stan continued to stare at the ceiling. He felt his energy being drained. Kyle lay down next to Stan and closed his eyes. Stan sighed heavily. "Kyle?"

"Yeah, Stan?"

"I miss you holding my hand."

Kyle hesitantly reached over and grabbed Stan's hand carefully. Stan's fingers curled around Kyle's hand. "Thanks." He whispered. Kyle would do anything Stan asked him to do as long as it made him feel comfortable. "We can still hold hands and be just best friends, right, Kyle?"

"Of course, Stan."


End file.
